


peaceful quiet...

by startswithhope



Series: Summer Soft [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, Domestic Bliss, M/M, Making Love, Sleepy Sex, Summer, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25223719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: Patrick keeps the world at bay for David for a little while during a late night thunderstorm...
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Summer Soft [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790560
Comments: 22
Kudos: 192





	peaceful quiet...

**Author's Note:**

> The fics in this series will all be from soft summer prompts I put out on my tumblr - [language-of-love](https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/). :)
> 
> I took inspiration for this fic from these lyrics from the song "Easy Silence" by The Chicks. (formerly The Dixie Chicks).
> 
> Easy silence that you make for me  
> It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me  
> And the peaceful quiet you create for me  
> And the way you keep the world at bay for me

Stuck in that space between sleep and consciousness, he digs his head deeper into his pillow, hoping whatever is trying to wake him up will…

The window by their bed alights with a flash, a loud crack and a rumble of thunder following entirely too soon after.

Okay, he’s awake now. 

Blinking to clear the cobwebs of sleep from his eyes, he stares at the glass, anxiety already beginning to ping around his chest like a pinball machine playing its introductory chords. It’s not like he’s scared of thunderstorms, not in theory anyway, just the uncertainty of them. The unknown of how close they will get, the potential loss of power, the noises and lights in the hands of nature, a creature of chaos beyond his understanding.

A long rolling thunder without the lightning comes next, which honestly, just annoys him. One shouldn’t exist without the other and it makes his brow furrow with frustration and his elbows dig deeper into the mattress. He’s not even conscious of how his breath has quickened until warm fingers sliding across his belly make him inhale sharply, his lungs trapping the air as he swivels his head to look over at his husband.

Patrick’s eyes are still closed, but he’s doing a poor job of hiding a smile against his pillow. Releasing his held breath through his nose, David welcomes the swirl of awareness in his stomach as Patrick’s thumb dips into his belly button and the flush of heat at his temples and behind his ears as Patrick’s pinky finger toys with the trail of hair beneath. His eyes close of their own volition and he barely registers the next strike of lightning behind his lids, too focused on the dichotomy of how Patrick’s touch can somehow calm and excite him at the same time. When the thunder rolls, he can’t help but flinch, but Patrick’s hand just slides further, curling possessively around his hip as a shaky sigh escapes his mouth. 

And then, Patrick is just there, his hand gently urging David to roll over, his mouth soft and warm at the corner of David’s mouth when he does. When David cracks his lips to breathe, Patrick’s tongue is there, wetting the seam just enough so when he kisses him again it’s a little dirtier, slow and slippery and full of confidence that he knows exactly what David needs. Because he does. He always seems to.

He loses track of things after that, the storm outside their window now merely a soundtrack, a lightshow, it’s lack of timing like a jazz staccato compared to the perfect rhythm of Patrick’s body moving against his. His mouth and hands are soothing like a warm summer rain and David lets himself get soaked in them, arching his back and stretching his limbs to take in the deluge. Patrick loves him through the storm without urgency, his desired outcome to cherish, not release, and David doesn’t have the capacity to hold back the tears as they burn down his temple and puddle on his pillow. Patrick can’t see them with his eyes and mouth centered on the sensitive crease of David’s thigh, so David lets them fall, smiling up at the ceiling as it flashes white with another strike of lightning. 

By the time the thunder from that strike rolls through, it could have been as loud as a freight train and he wouldn’t have heard it, not with his heart beating like a drum in his ears, pleasure seeping from every pore thanks to his husband’s mouth and hands and eyes watching David’s face as he gasps and moans. 

The storm subsides before they do, the post-rain cricket song chirping in the distance as Patrick’s mouth slides from David’s, a long groan escaping as he finally comes between them, their sweat slicked bodies tired and aching and thrumming with life. David loves how this feels, with their skin hot and sticky with their shared mess, mouths aiming for kisses, but too in need of breath to make it work. He loves to try anyway, to feel Patrick’s smile bump against his teeth before Patrick’s head finds its place in the crook of his neck, his exhaled chuckle and quick kiss warming David’s already overheated skin. 

Minutes pass without the need for words and he registers that Patrick’s breathing has steadied and his hand is slipping from its grip on David’s thigh. Smiling in amusement, he lets Patrick snooze on top of him, content with bearing the weight if it means he can run his fingers through the back of his sweaty hair and try to time his breathing so their bellies press together on their opposite inhales. Pressing his nose a little deeper into Patrick’s forehead, he pulls a deep breath into his lungs and lets it out slowly so he doesn’t break this simple, perfect moment. 

One decision he made a long time ago was to never take love for granted ever again, so he lets the quiet settle in, content to look out at the now peaceful sky outside their window for a while as his husband sleeps. He’ll wake him in a few minutes with a kiss so they can shower and change the sheets, but for now, he’ll just hold him, love him as the summer storm moves on to the next town over.


End file.
